Northumberland Yesterday And To Day - Jean F. Terry (i want to read a book TXT) 📗

The Chair Are Ornamented With A Twisted Knot-Work Pattern. The Right

Of Sanctuary Extended For A Mile Round The Abbey, The Boundaries Being

Marked By Crosses, One At Each Point Of The Compass At That Distance.

 

 

 

Other Treasures Of The Abbey Are The Beautiful Old Rood Screen, Dating

From The End Of The Fifteenth Or Beginning Of The Sixteenth Century;

Some Wonderful Old Paintings, Especially The Portraits Of The Early

Bishops Of Hexham, Alcmund, Wilfrid, Acca, Eata, Frithbert, Cuthbert,

And John, Which Date From The Fifteenth Century; The Mediaeval Carved

And Painted Pulpit, And The Tomb Of Good King Alfwald Of Northumbria.

Many Of The Stones Used By Wilfrid's Builders Were Of Roman Workmanship,

And Seem To Have Come From The Roman City Of Corstopitum, At Corbridge.

An Inscription On One Of These Old Stones In The Crypt Takes Us Back

Some Centuries Before Even Wilfrid's Time, For It Commemorates The

Emperor Severus And His Two Sons, Marcus Aurelius Antoninus (Caracalla)

And Publius Septimius Geta, And Has The Name Of The Latter Erased, As

Was Done On All Similar Inscriptions Throughout The Empire, By Order Of

The Inhuman Caracalla, After His Murder Of His Brother.

 

A Very Interesting Feature Of The Building Is The Stone Stairway In The

South Transept, By Which The Monks Ascended To Their Dormitories Above.

 

Quite Near To The Abbey, At The Other Side Of The Market Place, The

Ancient Moot Hall Claims Attention. The Modern Visitor To The Old Town

Walks Beneath The Gloomy Archway, With Its Time-Worn Stones, Which Forms

The Basement Over Which The Moot Hall Stands. Another Building, Grim And

Dark, Near At Hand, Is The Old Manor House, In Which The Business

Connected With The Ancient Manor Of Hexham Was Transacted.

 

An Old Foundation In The Town Was The Queen Elizabeth Grammar School,

Which, After Having Fallen Into Desuetude For Many Years, Has Been

Revived In A Form Appropriate To Modern Needs, And Housed In A Worthy

Building, Formally Opened By Sir Francis Blake On November 2nd, 1910.

The Site On Which The New Grammar School Of Queen Elizabeth Stands Is

One Of The Finest In The County, Commanding, As It Does, An

Uninterrupted View Of The River Valley For Some Distance, And Of The

Rising Ground Beyond.

 

At The Beginning Of Last Century, Hexham Was Famed For Its

Glove-Making: But That Industry Has Forsaken The Town For Many Years.

Now, Hexham Is Surrounded By Acres Of Market-Gardens, From Which The

Produce Of Tynedale Is Carried Far And Wide.

 

The Spacious Stretch Of Level Meadow-Land Below Hexham, Rising Gradually

Up To The Swelling Ridges Beyond, Is Said To Have Been The Scene Which

John Martin Had In Mind When He Painted The "Plains Of Heaven"; Though

The Level Reaches Above Newburn, Unencumbered With Buildings In John

Martin's Time, And Then A Scene Of Quiet Pastoral Beauty, Also Claim

That Honour.

 

Flowing Now Between Well Ordered Gardens, Green Meadows, And Ferny

Banks, Brawling Musically Over Shingly Shallows, Or Crooning Gently

Between Fringing Woods, The Tyne Rolls Onward To Corbridge, Receiving On

Its Way The Devil's Water, A Sparkling Stream Which Flows Through Scenes

Of Enchanting Beauty, Whether Between Rugged Cliffs And Heather Clad

Hills As In Its Upper Course, Through The Graceful Overhanging Trees And

Cool Green Recesses Of Dipton Woods Or Between Rich Meadows And Green

Pasture-Land Where It Loses Itself In The Bosom Of The Tyne.

 

There Is No More Delightful Experience Than To Wander Through The Woods

Of Deepdene (Dipton) On A Summer's Day, When It Requires No Stretch Of

The Imagination To Believe Oneself In An Enchanted Forest, Or, On

Hearing A Crackle Of Twigs, Or Faint Sounds Of The Outside World

Filtering Through The Green Solitudes, To Turn Round Expecting To See A

Maiden On A "Milk-White Steed," Or One Of The Knights Of The Round Table

Come Riding By, In Bravery Of Glistening Armour And Gay Surtout, And To

Find Oneself Murmuring, "Now, Sir Gawain Rode Apace, And Came Unto A

Right Fair Wood, And Findeth The Stream Of A Spring That Ran With A

Great Rushing, And Nigh Thereunto Was A Way That Was Much Haunted. He

Abandoneth His High-Way, And Goeth All Along The Stream From The Spring

That Lasteth A Long League Plenary, Until That He Espieth A Right Fair

House And Right Fair Chapel Enclosed Within A Hedge Of Wood."

 

On The Green Meadows Of Hexham Levels And Near Dilston Castle--Two Spots

Of More Than Ordinary Historical Interest--The Lancastrian Cause

Received, In 1464, A Blow From Which It Never Rallied, Though The

Courageous Queen Fought Gallantly Till The Final Disasters At Barnet And

Tewkesbury. The General Of Her Forces, The Duke Of Somerset, Was

Beheaded In Hexham Market-Place, And, Together With Several Others Of

Rank And Station, Buried At Hexham. The Well-Known Incident Of Queen

Margaret's Escape Into Dipton, Or Deepdene Woods, Where She And Young

Prince Edward Met With Robbers, And Afterwards Escaped By The Aid Of

Another Member Of That Fraternity, Took Place A Year Before This, After

The First Battle Of Hexham In 1463. The Year Had Been One Of Constant

Warfare Between York And Lancaster In The North, The Castles Of Alnwick

And Bamburgh Having Fallen Into The Hands Of Queen Margaret's Friends

Once More, After Having Been Raptured By Edward Of York The Year Before;

The Scots With Margaret And King Henry Vi., Had Besieged Norham, But

Were Put To Flight By The Earl Of Warwick And Hid Brother, Lord

Montague; The Royal Fugitives Sought Safety At Bamburgh, Whence The

Queen, With Prince Edward, Sailed For Flanders, Leaving King Henry In

The Castle Where He Was In No Immediate Danger; Warwick, With His

Forces, Retired Southward Again, And The Gentle King Remained In His

Rocky Stronghold, And Enjoyed There Nine Months Of Unwonted Peace.

Shortly After This, The Duke Of Somerset Deserted The Cause Of York For

That Of Lancaster, And Became The Leader Of The Queen's Forces. In

April, 1464, He And Sir Ralph Percy Opposed, At Hedgeley Moor, The

Troops Of Lord Montague Journeying Northward To Escort The Scottish

Delegates Who Were Coming To York To Make Terms With Edward Of York. Sir

Ralph Percy Was Slain, Exclaiming As He Fell "I Have Saved The Bird In

My Bosom"--That Enigmatic Sentence Which Has Given Rise To So Much

Conjecture, But Which Is Generally Held To Mean That He Had Saved His

Honour, By Dying At Last, After So Many Changes Of Front, In The Service

Of That King And Queen To Whom He Originally Owed Allegiance. "Percy's

Cross," Marking The Site Of His Death, May Be Seen By The Side Of The

Railway Near Hedgeley Station, On The Alnwick And Wooler Line.

 

The Rest Of The Force Dispersed, And Made Their Way To Hexham; And Lord

Montague Marching Upon Them From Newcastle, A Sharp Engagement Took

Place On The Levels, Near The Linnels Bridge, With The Result, As We

Have Seen, Of The Defeat And Death Of Somerset, And The Overthrow Of

Queen Margaret's Hopes In The North, Where She Had Had A Strong

Following.

 

The Historical Interest Centred On Dilston Castle Brings Us To Much

Later Times, And Enshrines A Story Which Possesses A Pathetic Interest

Beyond That Of Any Other Place In Northumberland. Originally The Home Of

The Family Of D'eivill, Later Dyvelstone (Which Explains The Name

"Devil's Water") Dilston Castle Came Into The Possession Of The

Radcliffes By Marriage, And In The Days Of The Commonwealth The

Radcliffe Of The Day Forfeited His Estates On Account Of His Loyalty To

The House Of Stuart. Charles Ii. Restored Them, And The Close Attachment

Between The Houses Of Stuart And Radcliffe Continued Until The Fortunes

Of Both Were Quenched In Disaster And Gloom. The Figure Of The Young

And Gallant James Radcliffe, Last Earl Of Derwentwater, Holds The

Imagination No Less Than The Heart As It Moves Across The Page Of

History For A Brief Space To Its Tragic End. Though Born In London, In

June 1689, Young Radcliffe Passed His Childhood And Youth In France In

The Closest Companionship With James Stuart, Son Of The Exiled James Ii.

At The Age Of Twenty-One He Returned To His Home In Northumbria, And

Took Up His Residence There, His Charming Manners, Kind Heart, And

Openhanded Hospitality Speedily Endearing Him To All Classes. His

Servants And Tenants, In Particular, Were Passionately Devoted To Him.

In The Words Of The Old Ballad Of "Derwentwater"--

 

  "O, Derwentwater's A Bonnie Lord,

  And Golden Is His Hair,

  And Glintin' Is His Hawkin' E'e

  Wi' Kind Love Dwelling There."

 

On His Marriage In 1712, The Young Bride And Bridegroom Remained For Two

Years At The Home Of The Bride's Father, And Preparations Were Made For

Restoring The Glories Of Dilston On An Extensive Scale. On

Derwentwater's Return To His Beautiful Northumbrian Seat In 1714, The

Death Of Queen Anne Had Excited The Hopes Of All The Friends Of The

House Of Stuart, And Plots And Secret Meetings Were Being Planned

Throughout Scotland And The North Of England, The Objective Being The

Restoration Of The Exiled Stuarts To The Throne. Derwentwater Took

Little Part In These Attempts To Organise Rebellion For Some Time, But

At Length Was Drawn Into The Dangerous Game, As He Was Too Valuable An

Asset To Be Passed Over By The Jacobite Party.

 

At Last Rumours Of The Projected Rising Reached London, And A Warrant

Was Issued For The Arrest Of Derwentwater, Even Before It Was Known

Whether He Had Actually Joined The Plotters, His Well-Known Friendship

With The Exiled Prince Making It Almost Certain That He Would Be An

Important Figure In Any Movement On Their Behalf. For The Next Few Weeks

The Young Earl Found Himself Obliged To Remain In Hiding, Finding Safety

In The Cottages Of His Tenants, And In The Houses Of Friends And

Neighbours. Finally, Though His Good Sense Warned Him That He Was

Embarking On An Almost Hopeless Enterprise, He Decided To Throw In His

Lot With The Jacobites.

 

Tradition Has It That His Decision Was Brought About By The Taunts Of

His Countess, Who, Like The Rest Of The Jacobite Ladies, Was More

Enthusiastic Than The Men. Throwing Down Her Fan, She Scornfully Offered

That To Her Husband As A Weapon, And Demanded His Sword In Exchange. The

Immediate Result Was Seen On That October Morning When Derwentwater And

His Little Band Of Followers Rode Over The Bridge At Corbridge With

Drawn Swords, On Their Way To Beaufront, Which Was Their First

Rendezvous; And From There Proceeded To Greenrigg, Near The Great Wall,

Which Had Been Appointed As A General Meeting-Place.

 

There They Were Joined By Mr. Forster, Of Bamburgh, With His Contingent,

And A Few From The Surrounding District. Rothbury Next Saw The Little

Army, Which Was Joined On Felton Bridge By Seventy Scots; And Thereafter

Warkworth, Alnwick, And Morpeth Heard James Stuart Proclaimed King Under

The Title Of James Iii.

 

Newcastle Was To Have Been Their Next Objective, But, Hearing That The

City Had Closed Its Gates, And Intended To Hold Out For King George, The

Jacobite Force, After Some Indecision, Returned Northward To Rothbury,

Where They Were Joined By A Large Company Of Scottish Jacobites Under

Lord Kenmure. Northward Again They Marched To Kelso, Where More Than A

Thousand Scots Joined Forces With Them.

 

The Little Army Numbered Now Almost 2,000, And A Council Was Held To

Determine What Their Next Step Should Be. On Its Being Resolved To Enter

England, Some Hundreds Of The Highlanders Returned Home, Leaving An Army

Of About 1,500 To March Southwards To Lancashire. On Their Way They Put

To Flight At Penrith A Motley Force Which Was Raised To Oppose Them;

And, Elated With A First Success, Moved Forward To Preston, Grievously

Disappointed On The Way At The Failure Of The People Of Lancashire To

Rise With Them, For They Had Been Given To Understand That Thousands In

That County Were Only Awaiting An Opportunity To Declare For "King

James."

 

At Preston They Barricaded The Principal Streets, And Repulsed General

Willis; But The Arrival Of General Carpenter From Newcastle Changed The

Face Of Affairs. Young Derwentwater Had Fought Valiantly And Worked

Arduously At The Barricades, But Forster--Whose Appointment As General

Had Been Made In The Hope Of Attracting Other Protestant Gentry To The

Jacobite Cause--Offered To Submit To General Carpenter Under Certain

Conditions. Carpenter's Reply Was A Demand For Unconditional Surrender,

And The Hopeless Little Tragi-Comedy Was Played Out. The Last Scene Took

Place On Tower Hill Three Months Later, When The Gallant Young Earl,

Then Only Twenty-Six Years Old, Laid Down The Life Which, After All, Had

Been Spent In The Service Of Others, With No Selfish Purpose In View,

And Which Was Offered Him, Together With Wealth And Freedom, If He Would

Forsake His Faith And Throw Aside His Allegiance To The House Of Stuart.

Refusing To Purchase Life At Such A Price, He Was Condemned, And

Executed On Tower Hill On February 24th, 1716.

 

His Brother Charles, Who Had Been By His Side Throughout The Rising,

Had The Good Fortune To Escape From Newgate Prison, And Passed Most Of

His